I don't own either of these characters. Vincent belongs to Square Enix, Martin Spire belongs to Philip Troy. End of story.

Timescape: Ever wonder why it took Martin six months to reach Nihran?

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Vincent paused for a moment and stared through the window of the Seventh Heaven bar. He knew almost everyone in Edge (even if he never spoke to them) but this boy was new. New people, in his experience, could cause problems.

Especially those with orange eyes.

He saw the boy flag down Tifa and, with a smile, she responded and put a glass of red wine on the counter in front of him. Vincent kept staring, but did nothing for the moment.

He could be a traveler… offered Chaos …y'know, just passing through, stopping to hit a bar, gone the next morning.

Vincent nodded. "A traveler…"

The boy was dressed in a long blue coat. For some reason, it brought to mind images of Sephiroth and Kadaj's leather trench coats, but this one seemed to be made from wool… or something like it.

The boy turned and glared at Vincent. His eye was the color of a tangerine – he didn't have a left eye. He wore a white dress shirt and black pants – it made him look like a Turk. His black hair framed a thin white face the color of bleached bone.

Vincent stared back, never taking his eyes off the boy as he walked into the bar. He could feel the orange eye watching him as he walked up to the counter. "Cabernet Sauvignon," he ordered, flagging down Tifa's hired hand as he passed.

"Stare any longer and I might do a trick," remarked the boy, coolly.

"You're new," responded Vincent, seating himself. He made sure to keep a barstool between them, just in case.

"Hmph," the boy glared away into empty space. "Don't worry. I'll be gone without a trace before midnight."

Vincent stared at him. The boy seemed much older, but couldn't be more than twenty.

The boy shook his head and muttered something. Vincent made a small querying noise – he hadn't heard it.

"I said 'damn Alintean technology'."

"Alintean?" Vincent had never heard the word before, but it sounded unearthly and strange.

"Never mind. Long story. Stuff is supposed to send you from point A to point B instantly," he said, staring into his wine. "Instead, it dumped me here, like it dumped me five other times. I stay here a while, and then vanish into nothing and appear somewhere else. It's crap, and it's worse than jet lag."

He sighed, tossing a few coins on the counter. "Nice talking to you, but I have to go."

He turned around and left the bar, nothing but a few coins remaining to mark his passing. Tifa came by with Vincent's wine, and he took a shot in the dark. "Who was that?"

Tifa shrugged. "New guy, I guess. He checked out on ID, though, so I catered to him."

"What was his name?" Vincent asked, sipping the wine and watching the blue coat retreat around a corner. For a moment he considered following him, but decided against it.

"His ID said Martin Spire, but it wasn't like an ID I've ever seen before…"

Vincent smirked. Go figure.